Requiem Revisited
by mjade24
Summary: This story takes place pretty during Requiem, with the exception of the Prologue, which takes place sometime during Pandemonium. It's from Alex Sheathes point-of-view, and some of the dialogue you will read throughout this fic was taken straight from Requiem, as conversations from the book needed to be included and addressed in this story. (Warning: strong language)
1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

They say you never forget your first kiss. But that's not true. I did.

I only remember how awkwardly my lips fell on top of another pair of lips. I don't remember what she looked like. I don't remember if she had short hair or long hair. I don't remember the color of her eyes or the sound of her voice. Sadly, I don't even remember her name. But if I did at one point, it all went away after I kissed Lena Haloway.

I had other kisses after that first kiss, but they are a blur. Vague memories from years ago. It had been so long before I allowed myself to talk to a girl, let alone kiss one, after I left the Wilds. I really never allowed myself the freedom to think that I would find someone like her, especially in the confines of Portland, where the drones dominated and the uncured were brainwashed into thinking that life was better after the "Cure."

That's what they call it. We call it a lobotomy. A dredging of the soul is more like it. They were barely human after the surgery, often looking lost, a blank stare. It's a horrible thing to see. Why even live, to be honest, when you were a Cured? It didn't make sense to live and not feel any kind of true joy or sadness. Or love. But that's how these people chose to live, and yet, I found her in this mess of a place. Lena.

Magdalena. Even her name sounds full of life. It flows with the sea, with the movement of the trees in the Wilds. There is beauty in that name. But the Cureds don't know anything about beauty. They would think nothing of it. They would say it's just a name. Just an identifier, but nothing special.

She is everything special.

Here in the Crypts, I cling to her name. I cling to everything I can remember about her. Her face, her eyes, the little mole on the wrist of her right hand, the warmth of her head against my chest, the feel of her slim, delicate fingers laced with my fingers. I could even feel the empty space between us when she couldn't stand next to me, when we had to walk on opposite sidewalks of the street.

I imagine the flecks of green in her brown eyes, and flow of her soft, brown hair against the ocean breeze. I can hear her laughter in my head, not at all harsh, but soft at times, melodically loud at other times. I visualize the moments of when those laughs entered my ears. Many of those times at 37 Brooks Street, that hollowed-out wreck of a house that was ours, where we played Scrabble, had picnics, looked up at the night sky. I could still list all the things I love about Lena with each star that I saw from the broken-down rooftop. I kissed her so many times in that house.

Lena's kisses are the only kisses that invade my mind now. They are the only ones that matter. They are the ones that keep me alive. That keep me breathing. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, allowing the memories to come. Welcoming them.

If I imagine hard enough, I think I can even smell her sweet fragrance, something that's distinctly Lena. A combination of her shampoo, soap, and her own scent of her skin. Ironically enough, her scent reminds me of the flowers in the Wilds that sometimes pop up in the Spring, if the ice has melted early enough and there's a patch of healthy dirt around.

I smile at the idea of her being out there, but just as swiftly as the idea comes, dark thoughts take over, and I realize that I have left her on her own. The night of the escape fills me with dread. I remember her there on the other side of the fence. I told her to not look back. I knew what I was doing. I knew there was no way we'd both be able to make it. I made myself the diversion. I told her to run, abandon me.

She ran, but not before looking back. I could still see her face in my mind just as clearly as the night it happened. The confusion and panic set in the lines of her face. The realization that I didn't follow her like I said I would. I whispered to her to breathe, then yelled at her to run. I didn't want her to see me that way. I didn't want her last memory of me to be that moment. I play it over and over in my head almost every night and each time it hits me like a blast to the heart. She didn't abandon me that night.

I abandoned her.

•••••••••

I touch the scar on my face. It's my keepsake. My reminder of what happened that night. Not that I need it. Being in here reminds of it every single day. I don't know how bad it is, but the feel of it, rough and jagged, tells me that it's not a pretty thing to look at. I haven't seen my face since I've been in this place. The Crypts.

When I was first brought in, they had left me alone. I don't know how long I had been left there, without food or water, and blood seeping out of my wounds. They didn't even come in to kill me like I thought they would. They just let me waste away until I was delirious from dehydration.

I'm still here, though. They eventually gave me just enough to eat and drink, if only to keep me alive to see me suffer. I was wrong about them. These drones did feel something. But it wasn't love. They would never feel love or empathy or sympathy. But they feel pleasure. Pleasure in seeing me writhe in pain. Pleasure in hearing me scream when they ran electricity through my body.

I never saw anything like this when I was just a visitor. Maybe they did this after visiting hours. I don't know. I have no concept of time here as there are no windows or bars in my cell. Just the fluorescent lights that shine dully above me and through the small space on my cell door. That itself is a kind of torture, not being able to see the outside, to see the sky, to feel the wind, to smell the sea water. Everything here is dull but the pain.

I may scream in pain, but I have been able to make it through each time, without giving them what they want. Without giving them information. They want so badly to know where to look for us in the Wilds, but I won't tell them. I won't risk them finding Lena and bringing her back here to be one of them. I won't risk them finding everyone else just to kill them, because I know that's what they want to do. We're a symbol of what's "wrong" with the world. We're the reason that they have to go to such measures as cutting off everyone's ability to feel, to be human. We are Invalids to them. We don't belong. We don't fit their so-called perfect world.

So, I won't do it. I won't give in. I would rather die.

•••••••••

Lena's face comes to me in a dream. She is just as beautiful as ever. She bends forward slightly and tilts her head up to look at me. I bend down just slightly to kiss her, but I don't feel her lips on mine, and I wake up with a dull ache in my chest.

I would have never wanted her to try to find a way to get me out of here, but I know that deep in my mind, I had hoped that somehow she would do just that. I hate myself for even thinking that. I had let her go. I don't even know if she's alive. But I have more hope for her than for me. I should've died already. I should've died many times before. And I'm still here.

I'm still here, and I don't know if I want to be anymore. Thoughts and images of Lena are the only thing that's keeping me going. And part of me now wishes that those thoughts would be lost to me, that I would forget her. But I can't. I can't. I love her and I just want to be with her. And if she's alive out there in the Wilds, I have to find her.

But how can I when I'm here? I've been here forever. Each day is another day of torture, and they don't even have to do anything to me anymore. They don't. They haven't in a long time. How long has it been since I've been here? I don't know. How long since I last ate? I don't know. How long since someone asked me a question? I don't know.

Do they even know I'm still alive? Did they get what they wanted without my assistance? It could be months, or years, or decades. Everything hurts, and I wonder if there's a reason for me to still be alive. Maybe I've already served my purpose on this earth in letting Lena escape. Maybe she's mourned me and long forgotten me and she's living a new life and has a new family and she's as happy as can be.

As much as I want that for her, I'm causing myself more pain. And I hate myself for being selfish, even when I've already cast my life away.

I love you, Lena. I tell myself that, and I speak it aloud, my voice a hoarse version of its former sound. I don't recognize it. I'm already fading away.

Let these bastards take my body and destroy it. I always thought I knew what hate was, seeing my father's grave in this place, and even seeing Lena's mother, with the way she wrote the word "love" on the wall repeatedly. I thought I hated them then. But I never did. I was merely disgusted at them, for who they became, which was soulless. But they're more than soulless to me now, and I truly do hate them. I hate them for what they've done to me. To us. They've turned us against each other. They've killed, they've maimed, they've played with our minds in more ways than one.

I hate them for separating Lena from me, as if I were a disease, as if I were no better than a cockroach on a wall. I no longer want to play their games.

I hurt inside. I know what I'm saying, but what can I do here? Lena is safe. Lena is safe. Lena is safe. She has to be, because I'm too tired to fight anymore.

I love you, Lena. I'm sorry.

**CHAPTER 1**

She looked just how I had imagined her to look. She looked exactly the same as I had left her, the same dark hair, the same brown eyes, the same shape of her face, her neck, her shoulders, the inward curve of her waist, the small outward curve of her hips… her everything. She was the same.

And yet, she wasn't. She isn't.

I had forgotten that I let her go. I had forgotten that I wanted her to be happy.

When you think you're going to die, all you want is for the ones you love to find happiness again. And love.

But I didn't die.

And I stood there like a fool, staring at her and him. What did I say? I barely remember, but I know it was harsh and hurtful and full of anger. I know, because I saw it in her eyes. I didn't take it back. I was hurt and I was angry. I still am. So, I wanted her to hurt, too. I still do.

Obviously, I am not the same person I was either.

All the things I never doubted before, I doubt now. Did she ever love me? Does she love him? That guy that she helped escape, that she saved, from becoming a Cured. Did she show him all that she showed me, told me?

I need to stop thinking about this. But I don't know how. The only reason I was able to escape was because I was so desperate to find her. To make sure she was alright and that she was safe. I wanted to thank her with everything that I had. To show her with my lips on hers, with my hands touching her, holding her, and never letting her go.

I close my eyes and the image of her and the guy named Julian embracing and kissing each other burns into the back of my eyes, and I have to open them again. It does no good, because the image is still there. I can't escape it. I feel as if something in my throat refuses to go down. My heart pounds in my chest as if I've been running for miles and miles and miles, and I had been only the day before. My legs feel heavy like lead.

I feel more lost than when I had no idea of where Lena would be, or how to even start. I no longer belong here. But a part of me, a big part of me, doesn't want to leave at all. No matter how out of place I am. No matter how angry I am at Lena. I want to stay, and knowing that fact makes me angrier. Because what kind of idiot would want to stay and see the girl he loves love someone else?

Apparently, that title belongs to me.

"You can blame me if you want."

I turn to see the black-haired woman standing against the door entrance of the small room that I've sequestered myself into. I think her name is Raven, but I don't remember her last name, or if she even said what it is.

"What?" My words sound more tired than harsh now.

"You know how it is, don't you? We lose people all the time out here, and yet, we still have to find a way to move forward. To carry on. Not to dwell on the people that we lost." I notice Raven's voice sounds a little scratchy at that last part, but I don't look at her.

I'm not sure what to say, but considering the tension in my jaw and the heat I feel in my face and even the pound, pound, pounding of my heart beating harder and faster, I realize that it's best not to say anything right at that moment. I could blame her, but not as much as I blame Lena, and certainly not as much as I blame myself for the chain of events that have lead up to this point.

But she also came back with Lena just moments ago. I kept to myself when I first arrived there. I was exhausted, but when I didn't see Lena among them, I wasn't sure if Raven had stolen Lena's pendant or had found it. Either way, I didn't want to tell them anything until I was sure. They were decent enough, though, allowing me to sleep on one of the beds until it was time for them to leave. I slept. And when I woke up before the sun even hit the horizon, that's when everything was made clear.

Raven and Tack, another one of the group, were gone. Someone had said they were missing another. They were missing Lena.

One person suggested leaving without them and heading north as they had apparently planned. But no one else budged. I wanted to find Lena, but most of the group was certain that Raven would come back, so I waited with them.

Now I'm staring back at Raven, who brought Lena back to me, and I'm seething. She probably has experienced loss herself. No one is immune to suffering in the Wilds. But does she know where I've been? Did Lena tell her about me? Does she know how many nights I've spent thinking about Lena, wishing that I could hold her again, praying that I could just see her face or just even hear her voice? No. Raven doesn't know. And I won't tell her.

"I'm not dead," I spit out at her. and surprise even myself by how scary my voice sounds at that moment.

"Well, you might as well have been," Raven retorts back, unflinching from my response. I feel my face heat up in anger, and I fight the urge to yell back at her, or do something stupid like slamming the door on her face. Instead, I just glare at her. I know I look hideous, not just by my scar or the how dirty I look, but also just by the mere rage that burns through the frown of my mouth and the narrowness of my eyes. Lena had seen that and she had flinched – no, not flinched. She jumped, more out of fear than of surprise. I know I'm giving the same look to Raven right now. But Raven doesn't even bat an eye. Five silent seconds later, Tack appears out of my peripheral, standing next to her.

"What's going on?" he asks. Raven finally breaks when the guy taps her on the arm, her eyes blink and she sighs. I don't notice until that moment that she looks tired. Beyond tired, really, and I suddenly feel bad for her. I have no reason to be angry at them. They aren't Cureds. They live out here in the Wilds, just like I do. And they took care of Lena, too.

"Just wanted to make sure the new guy here got enough rest," Raven says to him, then directs her attention to me. "We're leaving soon." Tack glances over at me for a brief moment, and I finally shift my eyes to look at him as well. My anger has subsided.

"Yeah, and we need to get the rest of the stuff packed. You coming?"

She gives him a nod. "I'll be there in a second."

When Tack leaves, she just says, "Everybody helps." She means for me to start packing up with them.

"So, what? That's it? No telling me to stay away from her? From _them_?" I say the last word with extra bitterness. Raven just sighs.

"Look, I don't know what you've been through or how you found Lena, but you're here and that's that. That's all I care to know. I'm not going to tell you to stay away from her." She pauses long enough for me to exhale twice.

"What?" I say with more patience than I had just a few minutes ago.

"We already have enemies. We don't need to create more in our group, that's all."

Despite my anger, despite this serious wrench in my attempt to finally be reunited with Lena the way I've wanted, the way I've imagined, for months, I know that Raven is ultimately right. If I'm to stay with them, I need to do my part. I had never forgotten about the Resistance. I have been a part of it for a few years, and I still am a part of it. More than ever.

So, I help. I move boxes and goods into the vans. I pack bags. I load up gear. And I ignore the girl I love.

A/N: This fic is unfinished at the moment, but much of it has been written already, and I will finish it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Characters established from Delirium trilogy are property of Lauren Oliver, the author and creator. **

**This chapter takes place during the early events of Requiem, in which Alex Sheathes has joined forces with Lena's group after escaping from The Crypts. Hopefully you have already read Requiem before reading this as this intertwines with certain scenes in the book.**

**Please note: Due to the nature of the story, some dialogue comes directly from the book itself, but obviously from Alex's point of view.**

* * *

><p><span>CHAPTER 2<span>

I get up, put my shoes back on and slip out of my tent, out of the camp and wander. It's been several days now and I manage to keep to myself for the most part, volunteering for tasks just so I have something to do, something to keep my mind from thinking too much.

But the nights are the hardest. I think I'm usually the last one to fall asleep, after all the noises have calmed and only the sounds of the light snoring from the other tents are left. Every once in a while I'll hear Hunter, or Bram, I'm not sure, belt out a loud noise in his sleep and then it's quiet again. I imagine that one shoves the other to keep him quiet. Unnaturals, as they are called by the zombies.

Even after all these years, part of me finds it a little odd, only because I find the opposite sex is too beautiful to me to ignore. But they are good men. And I envy their time together. To love each other without having to hide it.

Ten, twenty, thirty minutes pass, and that's when I realize I've been walking around unarmed. I could laugh about it, but that takes an effort that I don't think I have anymore. I haven't laughed in a long time. And this is not something to laugh about anyway, especially knowing that Dani and I almost ran into something earlier that day. It definitely sounded big, and more than likely it was a bear. To be caught by one right now would only be further proof of my idiocy. I suppose it's good I'm still close to the campsite. I've only been circling the perimeter, so at least I haven't gone completely brainless.

That's when I hear the sound of footsteps, and I know I'm not alone. Someone else is awake. When I come through to brush and see who it is, I feel myself tense up and I have to force myself to relax.

Lucky me, I think. I finally get a chance to talk to Lena alone and I don't seem to want to say anything. Well, I do, but not the words I had wanted to say before. _I'm sorry I left you. I'm so glad you're alive. You saved me. I love you. We can make it, you and me. _

"I couldn't sleep," she says flatly.

I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. I had at least thought that her time away from Portland had helped her get rid of her nightmares. I don't know what to say about that, and I'm tempted to ask her if they're still the same nightmares as before, but somehow asking her about them might make her think things are okay between us now. And I know they aren't. At least, _I'm_ not okay with how things are.

I admit, I think she has tried to keep her distance from Julian, but I see the look in his eyes. His eagerness to be there for her every single moment he can. He waits patiently for her, to see if she'll welcome his presence at that moment. Sometimes I see her just turn her head towards me, but I look away before our eyes meet, before she notices that I've been watching as well. What does it matter what I think anyway? I wouldn't know what she'd expect me to say. But I sure as hell wouldn't be nodding my approval, only to see her smile with glee for him. But he's there, standing next to her, his fingers barely grazing her hand or her arm. I always have to force my hands to ease up, loosening its grip on whatever it's holding, or just so that my nails don't make permanent crescent marks in my palms.

No, I am not okay with it. But what am I now but a ghost of who she knew. The zombies ate at me, and tore into me, and I have not recovered. I will never recover. My mind still feels the pain every once in a while, from muscles scorched by electricity, or from cuts that still sting the insides of my eyelids. Sometimes I even smell the smoke of Roman's cigarettes as he blew it onto my face, his coffee breath mixed in. It was nauseating. It was also not real. Not anymore. But I smelled it. That was what woke me up in the first place.

Now here I am, with Lena, and the memories of our time together in Portland are tainted with memories of my time in the Crypts, and nothing can be as they were before. She is with Julian, and I am left with the past.

"I couldn't sleep either." I wonder if she can sense it in my voice. The aloneness I feel, even standing next to the only person I've ever loved, and no longer can't.

"I thought you were dead." I blink. "It almost killed me." _Almost _killed_ her?_ And all I can see is that moment I caught her in Julian's arms. I can't stop myself from feeling the anger rise in me again. I had tried so hard to quell it these past few days. To maintain some kind of indifference about the whole thing.

"Did it? You made a pretty fast recovery." I fail miserably.

"No. You don't understand. I couldn't keep hoping, and then waking up every day and finding out it wasn't true, and you were still gone. I—I wasn't strong enough."

Now that, I couldn't believe. Lena not strong enough? She was strong enough to stay alive this long in the Wilds without me. She obviously doesn't understand her own strength. Maybe it's time to test it and see whose version of Lena is truer. Hers or mine.

"When they took me to the Crypts, I thought they were going to kill me. They didn't even bother. They just left me to die. They threw me in a cell and locked the door."

I see the tears in her eyes, but I tell myself it will pass. I think she says my name, and I know she tries to reach for me. But I don't let her. If I let her touch me, if I let her coax me into her arms, I know I won't be able to hold myself back, but I'm not sure from what. Because as much as I want to go to her, to lean into her, I feel just as much anger in me for our lost time and I'm afraid. I can't imagine even hurting her in any way, but I don't know myself anymore.

A tear falls down her cheek, then another, and before I can stop myself, more words tumble out. Words that were not supposed to be told in anger, or in accusation.

"I didn't die. I don't know how. I should have. I'd lost plenty of blood. They were just as surprised as I was. After that it became kind of a game—to see how much I could stand. To see how much they could do to me before I'd—"

I can't say anymore. I see the pain in her eyes in hearing all that I've said. I did that to her. I've hurt her, just like I'd wanted to. And I feel the guilt rush over me like an electric shock, only more painful. More sharp in its delivery.

She's saying my name, and it's like a hearing it through a thick wall. And finally—finally, I feel her hands on me, the heat of her fingers spread through my chest up my neck, and then my face.

"I'm so sorry," she says. "I'm so, so sorry."

Pity. Not love. Not love. That's what I force myself to believe, and I'm a stubborn ass. Instead of pulling her to me, like I've been waiting and wanting to do since I let her go at the fence, I grab her wrists tight and pull them down. I know my hands are not warm with compassion, they are hot with anger.

"There were days I would rather they have killed me." More truth to deepen the blow. "There were days I asked for it—prayed for it when I went to sleep. The belief that I would see you again, that I could find you—the hope for it—was the only thing that kept me going."

I feel my hands releasing her, stepping farther away from her. I look at her, telling myself that I don't belong to her anymore, and her tears will subside and she won't want to be with me, because I'm not the same person. I really just don't know who I am anymore, but I'm not her Alex.

"Alex, please," she begs. I vaguely feel my nails dig into my palms, and I squeeze tighter and will myself to say what I need to. What I should.

"Stop saying my name. You don't know me anymore." _I_ don't know me anymore.

"I do know you," she cries. She's making me remember, making me feel again. She doesn't know. She doesn't realize, she's destroying me with her words. I can't do this. I can't be here and be this close to her and just be friends, because I know that's all I'll ever be now. I have to make her stop. I tell her so. She keeps going, and I can't stand to hear it because I can't be her hero. I have to make her stop or I won't be any use to anyone.

"Stop." I'm so close to her I can kiss her, but I know her eyes see a monster. "No more. It's done, okay? That's all done now."

"Alex, please—" I have to do it.

"Stop!" I do. Lena is stronger than me. She can take it. She can handle anything. "Alex is dead, do you hear me?" Her mouth is slightly agape, as if she wants to say something, to argue the point, but I won't let her. I need her to let me go. I need her to hate me, even though I don't want her to. "All of that—what we felt, what it meant—that's done now, okay? Buried. Blown away."

"Alex!" She calls out my name in disbelief. It reverberates inside my head like a gong. As soon as I say it, it will be done. It will be blown away. And I won't have anyone to blame for it but myself. And she will blame me, too. And she won't have to feel guilty anymore. "I don't love you, Lena. Do you hear me? I never _loved_ you."

"I don't believe you." Her voice is weak. I know she's starting to doubt. I just need that one extra push and we'll be able to move past this. Move past us.

I step closer to her, and take her in. Her eyes, now red and wet with tears. She won't have to cry for me anymore. Raven said that she told Lena not to dwell on those that we've lost. She was right. Me being here was a mistake. Lena can't move forward this way. Her Alex really is gone. I'm just a shell of him. I am a Resistance fighter. I don't have time to mend myself, to make myself what I was before. None of us do.

"It was a lie. Okay? It was all a lie. Craziness, like they always said. Just forget about it. Forget it ever happened."

I have never felt pain telling a lie before. Then again, I never told a lie as big as the one I just did. But I would do it again, to save her from feeling any kind of resentment for doing what I told her to do. Why should she feel that anyway? It was all my fault. My anger has been misdirected this whole time. But I'll let it swallow me if I have to. I'll take the bad and the worse.

_You were never supposed to feel guilty for loving again, were you, Lena? _

"Please. Please don't do this, Alex."

"Stop saying my name." I force the words out through my teeth, hoping that she'll stop, because if she doesn't—if she doesn't, I might very well pull her to me, with me, and run somewhere that no one else will find us. And it will just be me and her, like it should've been.

Then a bear came and ruined everything.

* * *

><p>The bear is something you wouldn't normally expect coming when two people are arguing, or breaking up, or whatever you want to call it. But it honestly happened. I even have a hard time believing it, but being that we are in the Wilds, it shouldn't be a surprise.<p>

I don't know why, but as much pain as I've caused her, as many words as I've said to her in this one night, it was the bear that finally brought out the strength in her that I knew she had.

The five words she said to me after was just for my own personal benefit of causing her so much strife.

"_The old Lena is dead."_

It was then that I realized I made a gross error. And I couldn't take it back. None of it.

What was I thinking? I hurt her, and even though that was the furthest thing I wanted to do, I did it anyway. I try to tell myself it's better this way, that she stay away from me, that I leave her behind, just like she left me behind. In the past. Just like Raven said to do. But none of what had happened out there in the riverbed felt right at all. None of it.

Of course I had wanted to tell her how she was the only thing that kept me going, but never did I think I would say it with such contempt. When I was in the Crypts, I refused to allow myself the pleasure of thinking that she was waiting for me on the other side of the fence. But now I see I was lying to myself back then, just as I had lied to her just now. I really did want her to wait for me. I wanted her to wait for me forever. I hoped she had enough love in her to last that long, because I know I had. I have.

I am a fool for thinking I can just ignore all that's happened between me and Lena. For the past few days, I've tried to keep my distance and focus on other things, but anytime I heard her voice, or saw just a glimpse of her brown hair in my peripheral, all my desire for her, my longing to feel her lips on mine, came back to me tenfold.

I thought that my anger had subsided in those moments. Even when she was standing near to Julian, I thought I could be at peace with it as long as I knew that she was okay. But my anger had only been lying dormant, waiting for the opportunity to strike at its intended target and deal a blow that pierced as painfully as I felt.

_I never loved you. _

"Shit."

What was I thinking?

* * *

><p>No one talks much to me. But that's fine. I haven't given anyone reason to be all that friendly towards me. Just being around this many people is something that I haven't experienced in a while, so it's almost comforting, even though some of them hate me.<p>

Hate. I wonder if she hates me now. She should. All I've done since I joined her group is cause her grief. I think about the words I said to her, about wanting to die. I think it would've been easier on her if I did, but I was obviously too arrogant to believe that she could actually survive here on her own. I probably still am, because when Raven asks me where we should go, I tell her.

And it's not that I said we should go to Waterbury because it's opposite of what Lena said. But even if I am arrogant, I know I'm right. At least, for the Resistance, this is right. If it were just me and her, well, I'd go wherever she wanted to go, but even then, we would be wrong in doing so. I just wouldn't care. Okay, so I'm selfish as well as arrogant.

It surprises me a little when Julian agrees with me, and I feel the urge to laugh when I risk a glance at Lena's face to find it slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Then I wonder if there's an alternative reason to him agreeing with me. To make us trust him? I certainly didn't, but not for the reasons that the others didn't. I wonder briefly if circumstances had been different, if Lena hadn't been the one involved with him, if I'd be able to trust him. It's a hard concept, especially since he was apparently very involved with the DFA. I don't know if I could risk that. But Lena did, and as crazy as it sounds, I trust her more than enough to give him a chance. Because she trusted me.

If only he wasn't _with_ her.

* * *

><p>It's strange how things can move so drastically from one moment to the next. Like the thing with the bear. You feel one emotion, and then you feel something completely different. It's tiring, but you don't feel the tiredness until after.<p>

In the moment, you feel the adrenaline. The rush of movement, the rise in voices, the numbness of your own body. Pike's moving and the rest follow. They return to the open carrying two people. Somehow I make my way to one of them, and I see that she's about my age. When I look her over, there doesn't seem to be anything externally wrong. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I ask with as much gentleness as I can muster, which seems like very little, but she shakes her head.

"Help Nan," she says in a hoarse whisper. I turn around to see the other person, it only takes a few seconds for me to know that Nan is almost beyond help. But when Tack yells for the kit, I automatically open the supply bag that I know has the kit and bring it over. I know Lena is right next to me, but I can't think about that now.

It's been a while since I've sewn up stitches. But that's what's great about adrenaline. Somehow things become sharper, clearer. Even things that you never thought you'd need to know or things that you felt hesitant about doing before all of a sudden gives you the confidence you need. Sometimes it gives you strength you didn't know you had.

My hands are amazingly steady as I thread the string through the needle, and I'm already there, stitching up the old woman's shoulder, despite the fact that what I'm doing isn't going to help her at all. But I do it anyway. I do it because I need to help. I do it because it's the right thing to do. It's the respectful thing to do.

By the time I'm finished, I know Nan is dead. I feel Lena next to me and overwhelmed by everything that's going on. An anger surges through me and I get up, not wanting to look anymore, because I know what death looks like. I've seen it more than I care to, and four times, it was my fault. I dare not look at Nan's face, because I'm scared it'll be Old Man Hicks again. And I'm reminded of the fact that I'll never be able to tell Lena about it now.

I shouldn't care, but I wonder what she thinks of me now. Mean, loveless ex-boyfriend, if you can call it that, stitching up a dead woman for burial. Is she surprised I knew what to do? Did she try to touch me purposefully, yet I shied away from her? Tack is moving her along toward the tents. It's selfish of me to think about it, but even in the midst of this moment, I can't help but feel a pang in my chest as I see her head towards the tent that she now apparently shares with Julian.

* * *

><p>It's always earlier than it should be when I wake up. I never get enough sleep, even as tired as I am. But I never try to go back to sleep. Doing so only makes me lie there and think about what was and what is and how I feel like I'm living the surreal version of my former life. One life filled with Lena's smiles and kisses and made-up words, and then other life filled with memories of that previous life. It's such a pathetic way to live.<p>

A few others are up as well. Tack, Raven, and the girl from last night. Tack and Raven are always up, it seems, and I wonder how they can manage it. I don't think they're much older than me, but they definitely show signs of being older than they are. Still, they manage well together. Together. It makes sense, but it's none of my concern whether they are or aren't together. So I don't ask.

I move closer to the fire that Tack just started up again. The lightness of the sky tells me that it's probably about 30 minutes until the sun rises. About 10 yards away, I see what's left of what I presume to be Nan's body, covered under a dirty blanket. Tack nudges me and I know what he's about to ask and I just nod at him.

Tack, Pike, who was up soon after me, and I spend the next hour digging up a shallow grave 10 more yards away, knowing that we'll be leaving the area soon enough. Also, we're not safe with just the three of us and the majority of the rest of our group still sleeping.

I've never had to dig someone's grave before, and I wonder briefly why I'm so calm about it. Would I have been before? Before the Crypts? Before Lena? I've killed before all of that. I hoped that I would be able to confide in Lena about it. I can't anymore. Not that it matters now. What's one more dead body on my hands, anyway.

We wash our hands with the jug of water that we brought with us and make our way back. By the time we do, Raven is prepping what little food we have leftover to reheat on the fire.

It takes me a moment to realize that there are eyes on me, and when I turn my head, the girl from last night gives me a tired, sad smile. "Hi," I say flatly.

"Hi," she says back just as flatly. I could just stop there, and leave to do something else, anything else, like go pack my tent. I could, but something about the way she's smiling at me, the sad smile kind of look, makes me hesitate.

"How are you feeling?" I ask. It's probably not the best question to ask when one's Nan has just died. Did she see us take the body? I don't remember her there before.

"I don't know," she says, shrugging slightly. "Just…don't know. I mean, they were here…" she breaks off, probably not wanting to cry. I can only guess she's talking about her group, whoever they were, that she lost. I don't want to pressure her to continue, because as nice as I'm trying to be, having a girl who I don't even know cry in front of me is not something that I care to deal with at the moment. But I know she probably doesn't feel exactly part of the group. At least that I know how that feels. "Thanks for trying."

"Trying?"

"To save her. I know you all tried."

I look at her and she smiles, wrapping herself tighter in the blanket she has. I shake my head. The gratitude is unnecessary. Trying to save someone's life, that's what we're _supposed_ to do. If she only knew what I've done, that I've killed, would she still look at me as if I were a friend?

"I'm sorry," is all I can think to say. I'm sorry for a lot of things. This just happens to be the easiest apology for me to make right now, because it's not my fault.

There's a brief moment where nothing is said. And I realize that she probably feels more awkward than I do, being that she doesn't know any of us. She's the new homesteader now. She doesn't know me. She might think that I've always been part of this group. That I didn't fall in a love with a girl named Lena, and I didn't spend half a year in the Crypts. I wonder if she would be able to accept me as a friend. Someone that won't judge me for my past.

"I'm Alex," I say as I turn to stick my hand out to her. She looks at it and smiles, reaching out to shake it with hers. It's the most formal greeting I've done since joining the group. Her hand grasps mine and she barely squeezes it, but I feel the roughness in them. The proof of a girl who's been around the Wilds.

It's also the first girl's hand I've touched since Lena's.

"Coral," she says. It's a pretty name, but I don't say so. I just smile back, and it takes me a moment to realize that we are still shaking hands. I finally stop the motion and release my fingers as she does the same.

We talk intermittently, but not about anything important, like what exactly happened, or who it was that attacked them. Most of the time, she's the one asking me questions. Like where we are headed, where we were coming from, how many of us were there. My answers are simple and short, but I'm not irritated about it and I hope she knows that.

Then it's quiet again and this time when I look at her, her eyes are brimmed with tears. Oh boy. "Hey, I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you, or anything—,"

"No, it's not you," she interjects. "I'm just… I've only ever been with them."

I feel bad that I'm glad it's not me that caused it, but suddenly, my hand is on her back before I could stop myself. It would be weird if I abruptly took my hand off, so I leave it there for a time, and tell her that I'm sorry again, hoping that she doesn't sense my hesitation.

She wipes her tears away with the back of her hand and an image of Lena crying flashes in my mind. It's crazy how guilt can pierce like a dagger into your heart as much as love can. You end up feeling like a fool either way, but at least with love you don't mind feeling a fool.

"Thanks," she says. "I really do mean it."

I shrug, not sure if I should take any credit for anything about last night. Nan had died anyway, and I barely moved when they first showed up. I just say, "Sorry it wasn't enough." I start to wonder if the word "sorry" is going to be used in every sentence I say to her. Especially when she's not the one I should be saying "sorry" to all the time.

I hear Coral take a deep breath and then exhale. Instead of the awkward silence that I've been experiencing lately with many of the group, the silence here feels somewhat calming. I turn to look at her face, to see what it is about that particular moment that doesn't feel awkward. But Coral has her eyes closed and for a second I think that maybe she's fallen asleep sitting up. I don't even realize that only a second later her eyes have opened and she's staring back at me with such clear, green eyes.

"What?" she asks and I turn away. I'm sure there's a look of confusion on my face, but I don't want to consider what that means.

"Nothing. I was just wondering if you got any sleep last night. You look tired," I say. Luckily, she really does look tired, or I wouldn't have known what to say. I'm sure no one cares to be stared at, especially by someone whose face isn't quite so pleasing to see. Not that I'm vain, but I can't get over the look on Lena's face when I think about her first sight of me at the warehouse. But that's just it, isn't it? Coral didn't seem at all bothered by my scar.

"Not really, but I don't think I can go back to sleep just yet. I would rather just deal with being tired than deal with what I see in my dreams," she explains.

Nightmares definitely don't benefit the mind much. Instinctively, I turn my head toward the tents. One specific tent, actually, and as much as I try, I can't help but wonder if Lena's nightmares are worse or better than what they were before I came back into her life. Or if she's even dreaming about me at all. Not that I should care either way, but she still plagues mine.

Sometimes I dream about us being together, reliving the moments we spent in 37 Brooks again. The ones where we play Scrabble are especially haunting. I'm expecting her to come up with some crazy made-up word like we always end up doing. It was never about seeing who was better, it was about being with her, creating moments with her, watching her make faces or tug at her lip when she was thinking or smirk in that way that let me know her word was not only not real, but one that was going to make us both laugh until I pulled her into my arms.

But suddenly, I feel the turn of the scene, as if everything around us goes darker, and instead, she'll put in words that are familiar, too familiar – "cured," "dead," "run," "Invalid." I'd be confused for a moment and I'd look up at her on that last word, only to find her on the other side of the fence and I'm not on the worn down and torn up floors of 37 Brooks, but I'm on dirt and grass and I'm staring across a field where my eyes are focused on Lena, who's on the other side of the fence. She is not alone this time, like how she was months ago when I left her, but she is with Julian, their arms wrapped around each other. Her eyes are focused on him, just him. I would try to yell at her, call her to see me, beg her to turn her head and show her that I'm still alive. But no, not in this dream. Not in this nightmare. She has forgotten all about me by then, and the guards surround, beating me over and over again until—

"Alex?"

It takes me longer than it should to realize that someone has called my name out. When I do, I jerk my head to the voice and I notice 2 pairs of eyes on me now. Coral, looks at me questioningly and Raven, who's standing opposite her, with her mouth tight-lipped, looks at me as if she wants to say something, but is trying not to.

"Sorry, what?"

"Are you okay?" asks Coral.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just—I was just thinking of—nothing, really."

Raven gives me a funny look for a moment before offering us first dibs on the food. I comply and grab something that resembles a plate to pile the mush on. It's definitely not the tastiest food, but it's more than I've ever had in the Crypts. I haven't complained about food since then, no matter how cold or stale or hard it is.

In the Crypts, when sometimes I was so hungry that food was always in the forefront of my mind, I'd think about the times Lena and I had made the most ridiculous meals, mixing whatever canned foods we had at 37 Brooks. I had always thought the food was interesting to say the least, and even if my stomach threatened to heave back our latest invention, I would eat it anyway just to hear Lena laugh and see her face light up, shining bright with her open-mouthed smile. It was worth the ache I had the next morning.

Tack needs a few of us to help check the perimeter of our area for signs of trouble. I nod, already on my feet. A few minutes later, Tack, Pike, and I, along with some others, are about ready to leave. When Julian shows up, I meet his eyes for a split second before looking behind him and seeing no one else. I don't have a chance to look around more before Tack starts us moving. But before I know it, I turn around, run toward the campfire to grab the empty jug, and quickly scan the area and her tent before I accept that she might still be sleeping. Raven gives me an even more annoyed look as I rush back to tail the rest of the team.

It's a couple of hours before we get back, satisfied that whoever killed Coral's group didn't stick around. It's a good thing I brought the jug, too, because for some reason, I want to do something that actually could be more helpful to Coral than just burying the last of her family.

Lena is finally out of her tent. The tent she shares with Julian. I had spent those two hours in the team with Julian. We had not said anything to each other, but I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he spends his nights with her now. I can't even talk to her, can barely look at her when she is with him. Because when I do, all I feel is a sharp pain in my chest and a ringing in my ears. It's annoying to say the least. Every time, I feel like screaming at her to stop. Sometimes I want to beg her to come back to me.

I pass her, focusing my eyes on the people behind her. On Coral. I brought water for Coral.

"I brought you some water," I say as Coral looks at me somewhat surprised. "Don't worry. It's clean."

"Thanks, Alex," she says, and smiles, and I think I smile back at her, because it feels good to hear those words.

It feels good to have a friend again.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks to my friends Adam, Kait, and Jessi for being my beta readers, and for giving me all out encouragement. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Characters established from Delirium trilogy are property of Lauren Oliver, the author and creator.**

**This chapter takes place during the early/middle events of Requiem, in which Coral joins the group. Hopefully you have already read Requiem before reading this as this intertwines with certain scenes in the book.**

**Please note: Due to the nature of the story, some dialogue comes directly from the book itself, but obviously from Alex's point of view.**

* * *

><p><span>CHAPTER 3<span>

Coral has become a welcome distraction. Even the rest of the group feel more at ease around me, which something that I hadn't noticed before until I actually started speaking more freely. And smiling. I can't say that I'm back to being Alex Sheathes, student from U.P. and rebel who likes amazing orange sunsets and dances with shy uncured girls, but it's becoming easier to let my guard down around most of the people in the group. Not all, but most.

As we walk, I stay in the back of the group with Coral. She's slow, but she has a calm and friendly quality about her, at least after the big ordeal of realizing that Scavengers are working with the DFA. I didn't think it was possible for something like that to happen. I didn't think that the DFA would even try to find a way to get to us on the outside. But at the same time, it didn't surprise me. We were taking our rebellion to the next level. It would make sense that the DFA would do the same.

Even so, through all this, Coral manages to find a way to make me smile. She then talks about an embarrassing moment when walked in on a couple in a passionate moment, not knowing at the time what they were doing since it was quite dark, and thinking they were in a fight, she screamed for help, giving everyone else a look at the situation that couple were in.

I laugh. Loud. I surprise even myself at my outburst, and I look at her and some of those near us, but none of them are annoyed and some even smile and chuckle at me. Instinctively, I search for Lena's face. I notice the turn of her head, but I can't be sure if that was because she heard me laugh and turned to see or something completely unrelated. She might not have even heard me at all, or cared enough to look. Still, I shut my mouth just as quickly and continue listening to Coral with sealed lips. I can't help but think that I shouldn't be laughing with this other girl, this girl who isn't Lena.

It hasn't gotten any easier, either, to see Lena with Julian. I had hoped, after our confrontation, and especially after finding a new friend to talk to and distract me, my feelings for Lena would subside. I think the only thing I've been able to do is hide it better.

Other times, I can't help but overhear their conversation, when there aren't enough people between me and Coral and her and Julian. I wonder all too often about what they talk about at night when they're so close together. It opens up memories of my own. Memories that I thought I pushed back into the recesses of my mind. Memories of a night when I said the word "love" to her, hoping she'd accept mine if she heard it enough times.

_How do I love thee? Let me count the ways  
>I love thee to the depth and breadth and height<br>My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight  
>For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.<br>I love thee to the level of everyday's  
>Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.<br>I love thee freely, as men strive for Right,  
>I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.<br>I love thee with a passion put to use  
>In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.<br>I love thee with a love I seemed to lose  
>With my lost saints, - and, if God choose,<br>I shall but love thee better after death.*_

I still remember every word of it even though I had not thought of it much lately. That was the poem I had wanted her most to hear. But she cut me off. She was not ready then. She said before, what seemed so long ago, that she did love me…and seeing her with Julian , I sometimes wonder if those were words that were said in a dream of mine. Sometimes I want them to be, because the alternative would be to think that she fell out of love for me, and I don't know what's worse.

* * *

><p>We had found the safe house, but it wasn't safe enough. Those that were there were murdered and their bodies left at the bottom of the hill. The Cured don't seem to think us human at all.<p>

I made the fire a while ago and they hadn't returned yet. Lena and Julian were out there still, and I couldn't shake the fact that, even though Tack was probably right, something could happen to her. It's stupid for me to think like that. Lena's already shown me more than enough times that she knows how to take care of herself, and one bear in particular would probably agree with me.

Yet, I go searching anyway. I don't know anything about Julian except that he knows how to pitch a tent and is disgusted with the idea of sleeping in a shelter where people might have died in. I can't say I blame him, but he's not one of us. He hasn't had to deal with leaving the dead behind.

After seeing all the dead at the bottom of the hill, realizing what trouble they had been in, and knowing that the Regulators were in our territory, probably didn't help the visions in my mind of Lena with only Julian there to fight any intruders off.

Besides, Raven was still mad at me for even bringing the revelation to light to everyone else. But they deserved to know the truth. I don't see how hiding something like that would protect the others anyway. She could be mad at me all she wants. Right now, I just want to see Lena safely in the house.

When I finally see them, caught up in their own world, holding each other close, my mind races to explain to me what is going on. I can't seem to breathe and I barely feel the nails dig into my palms or my teeth grind together as my jaws clench. There's a ringing in my ears that I don't the origin of, and maybe it's connected to the pain in my chest. The only pain I can feel. I didn't think I would feel worse now than when I did when I first saw them together at the warehouse. But I do.

It's only when Raven yells out something and they move back towards the house do I feel the cold wetness on my cheeks. I finally exhale and wipe dry my face with my shaking hand. I breathe and breathe again. No, I am not me, and I am not hers. All the moments we shared together were a lifetime ago. We were so different then. It would never be the same as before. And I have to accept that.

* * *

><p>Since that day, I've given more of my attention to other things, to other people. Well, actually to one other person, really. Coral is who I feel most comfortable with, despite almost everyone else also being a homesteader. Even though Julian is the least trusted around here, it doesn't mean that everyone else is ready to accept me with open arms.<p>

Before, when I was living my double life, it was easier to feel part of the homesteader group. Now, though, everyone is suspicious. Things have been changing rapidly around us, and we need to catch up. We're part of the rebellion, and here we are, lost in the forest. One says we're in one place, someone says we're in another. It can be laughable, but it does happen. Luckily, winter has passed. It's easy to get lost in the snow and freeze to death.

It's inspiring and painful to think that Lena had already gone through many of her firsts in the Wilds. I envy Raven in a way, because she's the one that helped Lena through it. I didn't do a damn thing. Coral helped me feel useful again. It's a small thing, but at least it's something.

"Don't look now, but I think Lena's staring at you," Coral says, taking me out of my reverie.

This doesn't surprise me, because even though we haven't spoken since the bear appearance, I feel her eyes on me every so often. I just refuse to believe it, and most of the time I refuse to look at her when I do feel them. I couldn't help it when we were back at the deserted house. It seemed like a reflex then, at the mention of the infected not being buried, to look at her. It was because I wondered if she remembered that time that we shared together when I showed her my father's grave. Once I saw her eyes meet mine, I knew she did remember. My heart thumped hard in my chest at that moment, and then I felt it thump even harder, more painfully when I saw her with Julian.

With my head down, I shake my head a little at Coral, and tell her quietly, "It's okay. She's just not very happy with me right now." I can't help it. I look in Lena's direction, and she jerks her head in a different direction. I'm not sure what to feel about that. I'm the one who hurt her. I'm the one who stopped her from telling me what she felt. I'm the one who lied and told her I didn't love her anymore. She should be furious with me. She should be holding on to someone who obviously has fallen for her, too. She should allow me to move forward.

But how can I when I see her look at me as if we were still together, as if we're just playing Scrabble in 37 Brooks? How can I find peace with letting her go when I can still sense her eyes on me as if we're connected by some unseen rope, keeping each other in our personal space? I don't want to see her hurting, but I don't know how to cut that rope. I don't want to.

_Please stop looking at me, Lena. Keep running._

* * *

><p>The regulators found us. It isn't surprising, but it's not something that we want, either. My only hope is that the rest are safe, but then…<p>

Of course, this would happen.

When I said it in my head for her to run, I didn't know that it meant for her to run _towards_ danger. Has she always been this reckless? No.

I still remember the night we escaped the regulators at the rave. The night she got bit by a dog. The night we first kissed. She was so scared. I was scared for her. For us, because I knew that if she got caught, that would be the end of it, and we would cease to exist. Lena would've been dragged straight to the hospital to get her procedure done immediately, and she probably wouldn't have fought against it either.

This "now" Lena is so changed that sometimes I don't how to react to her. But this time I am angry. I had planned to follow Raven up the hill, gain a vantage point and make sure everyone else had a chance to make their escape. Even though I somewhat agreed with Pike as far as wanting to stay and fight, we were sadly unprepared, we didn't have Tack with us, and there were too many lives at stake. Plus, we didn't know exactly how many regulators were surrounding us. It was just too dangerous.

This is why Raven has been able to survive for so long. She knows better. I just seemed to have forgotten that Lena sometimes has a mind of her own. And sometimes it goes in a completely different direction. That was how she was able to save Julian, wasn't it?

Damn, that girl can really get under my skin. How can a bunch of band-aids and medicine do any good when you're dead? The regulators are so close and Lena's there, so visible. I can't help myself. And before I can even think about my own safety, my hand is on her and I'm so angry. But I'm also scared. For her.

"What the hell are you doing?" I whisper angrily at her. "Come on."

I'm squeezing her arm so tightly, and I almost feel guilty for doing so, then I feel her try to force me to let go, and so I pull harder until she has to relent and follow.

We find a place to hide, which happens to be in the same spot as Pike. Great. Instead of helping Raven on the hill, I'm here with Pike and Lena, neither of whom is on my good list right now. I try to relax, to stop myself from shaking, and with all that's going on around us, the only thought in my head is that I hope that Lena doesn't notice just how much she's rattled me.

We hear them come and I'm telling Pike to be quiet, but he's all hell bent on getting into it with whoever's out there. We finally do calm down and listen to them, and by the time we realize what's going on, I know that there's nothing we can do about it. They're burning our stuff, destroying everything that we've left behind to hide.

Pike is in a rage now, and before I can even think to move, he's crawling out of Lena's grasp and out of our hiding place, ready to charge. I try to reach for him, making myself louder than I want to be, but I can't even finish my tirade on him when two gunshots echo in the air.

This is it. Somehow, even with all the smoke and the gunfire going on around me, I can see Pike a short distance ahead and I make my way to another tree close by to back him up. I can barely hear anything, there's so much noise from the guns and the fire and people yelling, but I keep my focus and round off a few shots towards the last area I saw regulators shooting at us from.

I hear a scream, and my heart stops for a moment. I know it's Cora,and the pull to find her, to beat down whoever is hurting her, is strong, but I need to make sure Pike is okay before I can. Then I catch sight of brown hair blurring past me, moving in the direction of Coral's scream.

"Lena!" She either can't hear me or ignores me. I don't know how, but the two seconds it takes for me to yell at her and then turn back, Pike has disappeared. _ Shit!_ These are not circumstances in which I care to be in, but I'm in it nonetheless. I yell out for Pike, scared of hearing him, scared of not. I don't think about it anymore, and I run towards the camp where Lena and Coral are.

By the time I get there, what I see is like a scene straight from one of my nightmares. The regulator knocks Lena on her face and even from where I'm at, I can see the pain of the fall on her face. The regulator has her pinned. With her rifle in his hands, ready to deal the death blow on her head, I get to him first.

* * *

><p>I don't know if I'm supposed to feel bad that I left Pike, but I do know that if I hadn't been there to kill that regulator, Lena would be dead. Of course I am mad as hell at her for getting back into the crossfire in the first place, but I don't blame her for Pike, either.<p>

Yet, I couldn't help myself. I knew it wasn't a good idea before I started, but I yelled at her anyway. And I knew right then that she wouldn't back down from me. She wouldn't say sorry, or feel shame, or cry. She would fight back. And she did.

I kept all these thoughts in, hoping to never have to say them. But it was like gas waiting to be set on fire, and all it needed was the strike of a match. When it struck, I said those thoughts aloud. They were like flames leaving me and burning her. I guess it did in a way, because all I felt was a piercing coldness in my chest and a dryness in my throat. When she responded with her own words, they hit me harder than I was prepared for and they burned me worse than the coldest frost.

_You hate me. _

I didn't know what to think or say. I don't even think I knew how to breathe at that moment. It was only a moment, but it was enough to remind me that she wasn't mine anymore, just like she said. She wasn't my responsibility anymore. And she thought I hated her.

It's too late, I thought. Too late to say sorry for all the lies I told her. Every day, I piled lie upon lie to her, to myself. Why on earth would she want to take me back now? I've broken her heart again, and forced her to turn away from me. For what? Because I'm a spineless human being. Beneath all my anger that people perceive to be bravery, I know what I truly am.

I didn't like it, but when Julian came to wrap his arms around her, to hold her close to him, I didn't stop it. I didn't huff in anger. I just left. He deserved her. At least Lena knew how he really felt about her.

_You hate me. _

The revelation is clear in my jumbled thoughts. It does nothing to calm the pounding in my chest. I want to feel numb to the idea, but first I would have to feel it consume me. When I walk away from Lena and the other boy that loves her, I know I am finally giving myself some kind of truth. The truth that I can only share to Lena in my head.

_No, Lena. I hate myself._

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><p><strong><em>AN: *How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Characters established from Delirium trilogy are property of Lauren Oliver, the author and creator.**

**This chapter takes place during the middle events of Requiem, in which Alex Sheathes has joined forces with Lena's group after escaping from The Crypts. Hopefully you have already read Requiem before reading this as this intertwines with certain scenes in the book.**

**Please note: Due to the nature of the story, some dialogue comes directly from the book itself, but obviously from Alex's point of view.**

* * *

><p><span>CHAPTER 4<span>

Waterbury is nowhere near what I imagined it to be. I don't think anyone imagined it to be that way by the looks on their faces. What I do know is that whatever Lu said she heard was a complete and tragic lie.

The place is a disaster. I see Coral from the corner of my eye as she sniffs and wrinkles her nose. I'm familiar with that smell, but it's definitely stronger than what I'm used to. When I went to visit my father's grave at the Crypts, some parts of the building had built up a stench, especially the area near Lena's mother's cell. And my cell.

Our group stalls at the top of the switchback trail that leads down to the camps below. Of course they're hesitant. No doubt they were expecting something a little more…civil, I guess. Hell, I can't say I wasn't expecting the same thing. But for some reason, despite the disparaging looks on everyone's faces, I feel a little hopeful. Sure, it's not home, it's not even like my old trailer, but there are people and they stayed here for a reason.

"We could have gone to Canada, like Gordo said," says Dani.

"We wouldn't have made it there without our supplies," says Hunter.

"We should still have our supplies if we had headed north in the first place." Dani's right, but there's no point in arguing about that now. And I have had my fill of arguments for a while. I see the back of Lena's head. Even without looking at her face, I can see her disappointment, the way her head is tilted down and her shoulders slumped.

"Well, we didn't," I say, beginning to move ahead of the group. "We're here. And I don't know about you guys, but I'm thirsty as hell."

Once I get to the front, I turn around to look at the rest of them. I'm not one to rally the group. Many of them I barely know, but the ones that I do… or the one that I do know, I still want to be the one she looks to for encouragement.

"Well, are you coming?" I say a little more confidently.

I look directly at Lena for a fraction of a second, and I think she notices what I'm trying to do. I try not to inhale or exhale too fast, hoping that my excitement over the reaction on her face doesn't show. I turn around, not getting my hopes up.

The fact is, it was just a moment, not even that. It wasn't an apology, because that would mean actually talking to her, something that I don't know either one of us is ready for. But I want her to see that I haven't completely changed from my time in the Crypts, even though the scar on my face may say differently. I don't know if she saw it, but there was a flicker in her eyes, and her mouth parted as if in a gasp. Maybe she did.

I can't think about that now, though. I am thirsty. And I am hungry. And I need to find out if the people down there are willing to help us. As long as Lena is close by, I could let myself deal with other things.

* * *

><p>I think there was a time when all I wanted to do was sleep the day away. When I didn't have to think about surviving in the Wilds or waking up for classes. Or working an early shift.<p>

That was another life.

When we first arrived here, only yesterday, I thought there might be some chance of getting real rest, and finding more people in the Resistance. Turns out there aren't that many people willing to risk their lives that way. It seems they'd rather just waste away, hoping that food and water will always be provided for them from Pippa.

Pippa's a well-meaning lady, but she can't provide for the 2000 or so people in this refuge, if you could even call it that. I have a feeling we won't be staying here long, and I would probably be glad for it when we do move, but where would we go? And why am I even still with them if I can't be with Lena?

I jerk myself awake from another nightmare about Lena. In this one, I decide to go after Pike instead of protecting Lena. But I get lost chasing after Pike and when I go back to search for Lena, she's lying on the ground with blood surrounding her. Even in my dream, my heart is aching and beating fast and I'm trying to run to her, but all of a sudden people are surrounding her, including Julian, and I can't seem to get past them to get to her. They won't let me reach her and I'm pushing and yelling, but no one seems to even notice that I'm there. A voice in my dream is what finally gets me to open my eyes to the dark morning. Her voice. _Alex. Alex. Why did you leave me?_

I'm more thirsty than ever, and lying awake thinking about Lena can't possibly be how I want to spend the rest of my time here. So, I sit up, rub my hands over my face and hair several times, trying to wake my body up and get warm.

Once I'm finally up, I see that Coral is awake, too. She looks up and smiles at me. It's one of those big, toothy grins that usually make people look really idiotic. But she's too pretty for idiotic. I know she likes me. She spends most of her time sticking close to me and we talk to each other more than we've talked to anyone else in our group.

I should tell her that we could just be friends, but this is the most contact I've had with one person in a while and I have to admit that I like her company. She actually talks to me about things other than where we're going to camp or what we're going to eat or what happened to my face. In some ways she reminds me of Hana, Lena's best friend.

"Did you sleep well?" I ask Coral, keeping my voice low as the majority of our group are still sleeping and they're pretty close by.

Coral nods and moves over a bit to make room for me in front of our small fire. I stand next to her, but I don't sit down, feeling the need to move. The air is brisk and Coral is trying to warm herself up with the flimsy blanket she's holding around her. "I just got up myself, but I couldn't get back to sleep with Hunter snoring nearby."

I don't even notice Hunter's snoring until she says it, but I realize that it's the loudest noise around our vicinity. I chuckle a little.

"Well, not that it doesn't sound especially pleasant, but I'm going to go get some water before it gets too busy." Considering what Pippa told us last night, I have a feeling that the river isn't a place you'd want to be at when the majority of the population start waking up. "You want to come?" I ask Coral. I know she'll want to.

She doesn't hesitate and we're off to the river. Seeing the area in daylight, I realize the state that the people are in its worse than I thought. I knew it was bad after hearing what Pippa said last night, but sometimes it doesn't really hit you until you actually see it with your own eyes. Until you're actually in the thick of it.

"I've never seen things this bad before. We've lived on the outside for as long as I've been alive, but..." Coral pauses.

I know what she means. It's not just the crowd or even the smell of the place. It's that feeling of hopelessness, the kind that consumes you if you stick around long enough and do nothing. This place kind of does that to you. For me, it reminds me too much of the Crypts, and that's the last place I want to be reminded of.

My body shakes involuntarily.

I think Coral notices, because all of a sudden she's reaching for my hand.

And I let her.

I let her, and I'm not sure what to say at that moment. A wave of guilt rushes through me.

"Coral-" I say, not sure what exactly I want to say after that. I'm not even sure if I begin to pull away, but her fingers curl into our hold.

"Alex, don't let go. I just… I'm just a little nervous around here. Please," she says. She looks at me, her eyes are wide open and I see the nervousness in them, but I also see something that reminds me too much of Lena. I shift my eyes away, but I nod my head, letting her know that I'm okay with this, this physical contact. I still feel guilty, but if I'm being honest with myself, a part of me feels...good.

It shouldn't mean anything, and maybe it doesn't to Coral, but doing this reminds me of those times Lena and I had to break from each other. The times when I walked her to her home, with the street often separating us because we couldn't even walk together on the same side of the street for fear of being caught. And the night when I held her hand after we crossed over the fence for the first and only time.

And now when I could show my love for her in front of anyone and everyone around here, I'm holding someone else's hand. Life is a whole path of ironic moments. Or maybe it's a whole bunch of sadistic moments. I don't know if there is a difference.

"Come on," I say. I pull her towards where the water is.

Right away, I know there's something wrong. There's already a growing crowd, but there should be more water flowing. Considering how long these people have been here, I'm surprised the zombies on the other side haven't cut off the water flow already. That's assuming my guess is right.

And if my guess is right, nobody will be able to stay here for very long.

* * *

><p>I don't think I'll ever get over the utter desire to protect Lena from any kind of harm. It's not like she's completely helpless. Far from it from what I've seen since I've been back. But it's there all the same. I can't help it. But it's not something that I can tell her, or anyone.<p>

Even so, looking at her when she made the decision to be part of the mission, to blow the dam, is admirable.

"_I'm with Julian." _

Even if she did make it known to everyone that she wants to be beside Julian during it. I had to bite the inside of my mouth to prevent myself from saying something.

I had to laugh when Raven told Coral she was going to have to join Lena's group.

But my laughter is gone now. Somehow, the regulators suspected something and our mission didn't go as planned.

When Beast and I did our part, I wasn't sure if we'd be able to hear the rest of the explosions from where we were, but it didn't matter. We were set to do all our parts at the same time. So, when we did, the next plan was to head back to the camp and wait for the others. Or get as much of our stuff packed and leave as soon as possible.

That wasn't going to happen, though. I wasn't going to be leaving without my group. Okay, fine. I wasn't going to be leaving without Lena or Coral. Maybe that is selfish of me, but I do care about Coral, and even if Lena is still mad at me, or I'm still mad at her, I can't stop being in love with her.

So, when Raven and her group return without so much as an acknowledgement, I know the plan has failed. When they tell us what happened, I know we need to leave as soon as Lena, Coral, and Bram return. It's too dangerous to stick around now.

When Bram returns without Coral or Lena, I feel myself quietly losing control, if that's even possible. I want to pummel Bram for leaving them there, but I'm not the only one. Raven and Tack get to him first and he tells them he did his part in the plan and took off as soon as possible, just like they told him to do. I wouldn't have left. And that's a good reason why they don't trust me.

It doesn't take as long as it felt when Lena and Coral finally do come back. When I see Lena's face, she looks so gaunt and tired and pale, I forget myself and the people around us. I forget that I'm no longer hers and she's no longer mine. I forget that I'm not supposed to love her.

Lena looks at me and it's like we're seeing each other for the first time in months. Her hands, her face, her body tells me that she wants me, needs me, to be with her. To hold her. This is the moment that I've been hoping for ever since I escaped the Crypts. My whole being moves toward her… and for a moment, I feel truly hopeful.

I hear someone else say her name before I do, and I feel someone else's body wrap around mine. And all I can think is, _No! Not again! _

My hope falls just as quickly as it falls, and my mind works swiftly, reminding me of the circumstance that I'm in, and I find myself comforting Coral in my arms. If this were another moment, another situation, I probably would've taken more time in Coral's embrace. I take a deep breath, then breathe again. Then I pull back to look at Coral, as if she was my main concern in the first place. If Coral knows differently, she doesn't show it.

"Are you okay?" I ask. "Are you hurt?" Finally, my concern becomes genuine, and I pull back to look her over for injuries, but she's shaking her head no. I walk her to one of the campfires since she's shivering as well. "What happened?"

"Lena...she went over the fence," she says. I stiffen.

"What?" I ask, trying to sound less shocked than I feel at that moment.

"She had to go in to set off the alarm, but we got caught-," Coral explains, but I can't take it anymore and I pull us back to where our group is. To where Lena is, so I can make sure she's really there.

Lena, who is explaining what happened to them, tells us that Lu was the one who betrayed us. Lu is one of them now. I should've known. I've been around the zombies long enough, and yet I didn't see it. Because I was too caught up with watching over Lena. I was too caught up in my own selfish desires. I should've known.

_Amor deliria nervosa_ strikes again.

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><p><em><strong>AN: Sorry for the delay in posting. Busy-ness, and I have to admit, a bit of laziness, has been taking precedence. But I still have not forgotten! On I go!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Characters established from Delirium trilogy are property of Lauren Oliver, the author and creator.**

**This chapter takes place during the middle events of Requiem, in which Alex Sheathes has joined forces with Lena's group after escaping from The Crypts. Hopefully you have already read Requiem before reading this as this intertwines with certain scenes in the book.**

**Please note: Due to the nature of the story, some dialogue comes directly from the book itself, but obviously from Alex's point of view.**

* * *

><p><span>CHAPTER 5<span>

Maybe in another version of this world, a better version, I would've appreciated a guy like Julian. We probably could've been friends, or at least pleasant acquaintances. Well, if I were in the higher echelon of society. Yeah, I doubt that would've happened in any version.

But despite Julian's discomfort in having to do things he probably thought were despicable a year ago, I have to admit that he's been pretty accommodating with his new lifestyle. Not that I plan to admit this out loud, though.

The alcohol has definitely gotten to him. Somehow Bram and Hunter got him to join us in this drinking binge. At first I wasn't happy about him joining, but then I realized that would mean he'd be away from Lena for a while. Not that it makes any difference, because he'd go back to her eventually. Still, my envious nature is appeased.

He's not completely drunk, but his words slightly slur when he speaks and he's more relaxed than I've ever seen him, which says a lot because he's only usually relaxed when Lena's by his side.

I push back the thought of them together...in any form.

I take another swig at the bottle I'm holding, and almost spill a good amount on my shirt. I guess I'm not quite sober, either. I think I may have had a few more gulps than Julian, so really, that should make us about equal in the drunkenness factor.

I wonder what Lena would think of us now. Drinking together as if we were friends. Would she be pissed or elated? Lena. I lean my head back against the wall behind me and close my eyes, thinking about her being angry. That girl can get fired up. I should know, she's been that way towards me. It's not fun bearing the brunt of her ire, but at the same time, there's something about seeing her that way, seeing her act so… feisty, that is appealing.

That spirit in her, it wakes her up, makes her more vibrant. It proves that she's alive and has feelings, and feelings produce not only anger, but love. Deep, intense, entrancing love. She's not fit to be cured. Too beautiful to drown in a sea of obtuse zombies.

I smile.

"So, you and Coral seem to hit it off," says the person who has my girl's heart. My smile is gone. Hunter and Bram laugh. They're completely drunk.

I open my eyes to glare at Julian, but he's just lazily smiling at me, teasing me as if we were buddies. I want to squash that conclusion, deny any sort of affection towards Coral. But that would be lying, too. Coral and I do get along, and although my heart has never stopped loving Lena, Coral has been the one who's treated me kindly. She's been the one to talk to me. She's the only one in this group that's shown any sort of real trust towards me. So, yeah, we hit it off. But I'm not going to tell _him _that.

"I'd rather you not presume to know anything about me," I say with slight tension in my voice, or at least that's what I am trying to evoke.

"C'mon Alex, it's not like we don't see it," he rationalizes. I think it's the first time I've ever heard him say my name. Maybe it's first time he's _ever _said my name, because he sounded uncomfortable saying it. But I don't really care to hear it, either. "Besides, she's pretty. You two just seem really comfortable together is all."

I know what he's trying to do. Yeah, Coral's pretty. So is Raven. So is Lena. Well, Lena's exceptional, though. I wonder if he realizes it's not so easy to just give up one thing for another just because it's readily available. Or one person for another just because it's comfortable. I don't want comfortable. If I did, I wouldn't be here.

"It doesn't matter what it looks like. And I'm not here to make people comfortable. I'm here to help," I say. It's true, somewhat. Granted, that isn't my primary focus, but I always planned on helping where I could. It's just a matter of how much help I would be for this group. How much help they, she, wants me to be.

It's oddly quiet in the room we're occupying, and maybe I sounded a little more harsh than I meant, but I didn't like where the conversation was headed, and the thought of me and Coral being some kind of issue where people talk about us is not something I want to encourage.

Bram and Hunter look at each other, as if having their own conversation through the blinking of their eyes, and burst out in laughter. I ignore them, but Julian is curious, trying to decipher what exactly those two are thinking.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that we can't help but wonder when you two are going to start tearing at each other's throats is all," says Bram lazily. Hunter chuckles. I look between the two of them, seeing them comfortably sit close to one another on the bench , their faces leaning towards each other. Julian watches them, too. He raises his eyebrows and glances at me for a split second before turning his head elsewhere and taking another drink.

He doesn't seem too uncomfortable being around them now, but I know he tends to look away when they're showing any sort of public affection. By any invalid's standards, he's still a baby when it comes to being an uncured in the Wilds, and hanging with "unnaturals" probably adds another level of awkwardness for him.

Lena isn't so far head either. It still amazes me how well she's taken to living out here. She's not only been able to survive the winter, but she's stronger. She's more courageous than I ever could've thought. And she was able to get to that point without my help at all. Not only that, she was able to turn one of the most recognized figures in the DFA into part of the Resistance.

I admire her so much for how she's been able to handle it all. Yet, when I see Julian, I still can't help but feel the irony of it all. So yeah, Julian and I aren't quite on friendly terms. We may never be. But I can't help feeling a little sting at the assumption that I want to harm him, which is stupid, because sometimes I do.

"You say a lot of shit when you're drunk, don't you, Bram? Besides, that wouldn't be a fair fight," I say. One thing liquor tends to do and has proven to do time and time again is make people say things they really shouldn't say. I look at Julian, who's looking back at me, wondering what I meant by that. "I'd kick your ass."

He gives me an indignant look. "I'm not weak," he says. No, he's certainly not weak in the physical sense. He does his fair share of physical labor. But fighting isn't all about strength, either. I may have never seen him fight, but judging by his demeanor and where he was raised, I don't think he's ever had the need to swing a punch at anyone before. At least, not until recently.

"No. But you don't know a thing about actual fighting, do you?" I ask. Julian glares at me, as much as someone who's drunk can glare. Right now, it just looks like he's a bit more constipated than angry. I have to choke back a laugh.

"And you're an expert at fighting, is that it?" he says in annoyance.

"I've had to kick someone's ass before, yeah," I say. Bram and Hunter just smile, as if they already know that about me. I don't need to tell them it was when I was 10 years old and Ricky Stratton, who was 4 years older than me, was trying to steal my blanket just so he could impress a girl by giving her mine as a gift. I don't need to tell them I sucker punched the guy right when he turned his head to look at who was calling his name. And I certainly don't need to tell them that Ricky Stratton beat the shit out of me right after, even though his girl pleaded him to stop.

It goes quiet for a minute.

"Then show me," says Julian. At first, it seems that my brain isn't processing the words correctly. When it does register, I'm not sure if I heard what I heard correctly.

"What?" I ask. Bram starts laughing louder. It's well past 1am, and the majority of people are sleeping. Hunter hits him just hard enough on the chest to hush him. "What?" I ask again.

"If you know how to fight, then show me how to fight. If I'm going to be living out here, or fighting against regulators, then I should know how to fight back, right?" he explains.

It's not that he isn't right. Of course, he should learn how to fight. But, me? I would've never expected him to ask me. What's he trying to prove? That we can work together? That this isn't…weird? I shake my head in the negative.

"Why not?" he asks. "Is it because you don't like me? Is it because of her? Of Lena?" He says it so casually, but I wonder if he's completely wasted. My hands close tight, one gripping the bottle like my life depends on it, the other digging nails into the palm of my hand.

Bram and Hunter are quiet now, looking between me and Julian, as if waiting to see if we're going to have it out right here and now. As if they think I'm going to rail on Julian just for asking. I may be mad, but I'm not crazy. And it's pissing me off thinking that's what they expect from me. _Mad, bitter, brooding Alex, recent escapee from the Crypts beats down Julian just because he asked to learn how to fight. _

"Nevermind," he says. "Bram-,"

"You really want to know how to fight?" I ask. I don't even know why I'm continuing this conversation.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to." That's probably true. I look at Bram, and he just shrugs then takes a swig on his bottle. Hunter looks shocked, but I know he's waiting for me to answer, trying to figure me out.

For some reason, one side of my mouth curls up and I smirk. "Fine," I say with a sigh. "Let's go."

As I start walking, Julian hesitates. "Wait, you mean… now?"

"You waiting for another ambush to happen to get you going?" I ask without hesitation. I didn't even think about the fact that's it's pretty late and we're both still a little buzzed, therefore not in our most alert state of mind.

Julian still looks hesitant. I know he must be thinking about Lena. And the thought of missing out on sleep with her.

"Now or never. We'll probably need to start moving in the morning, so we won't have time then," I say. He finally follows me out.

We stay oddly quiet until I find the clearing of what used to be a parking lot. There's rubble here and there, and it's dark, but I find a big enough space for us to…train. The light from our flashlights, along with some of the natural glow from the moon, makes it fairly bright enough to see without straining.

"So, what do you want to learn first?" I ask as I turn around to face him. He's stopped far enough ahead to where there's about ten feet of space between us. I try not to act smug about this whole thing, but I can't help but smirk a little.

"I don't know. What should I learn first?" I know he's tired, but I think the walk sobered him up a bit. I'm tired, too, but I've been tired for a long time. My eyes feel heavier than usual, probably due to the alcohol, and I wonder if I would've been able to get a decent night's sleep if I didn't agree to this.

Before the drinking, I caught a look at Lena sleeping on my way to the kitchen. Even with all that's happened between us, this separation, I still want to lie down beside her like we did when I brought her to my home. Looking at Julian now and knowing that he's gotten to spend more time with her, sleeping in the same tent, unsurprisingly makes me a little more agitated. It's not a good thing to think about when you're supposed to be teaching said person how to fight.

I shake it off and get in a fighting stance. I curl my hands into fists and place them in front of my face with my left fist just slightly in front of my right fist and position both of them just below my eyes, keeping my face blocked.

"In face-to-face, no weapons combat, this would be your usual fighting stance," I say. Julian mirrors me to the tee. We're not within arms length to actually hit each other, so I punch my right arm out in front of me, quick, hard, and steady, before moving it back in the same position.

He seems to be taking things okay, keeping up with my instructions on the basics. I show him how to throw jabs and hooks, blocking his swings while directing him. _Keep your arm in position. Keep your fists up. Look at your target when you hit. Don't be sloppy. _

"You know, Lena's a strong girl," Julian says. I don't stop, but I feel every muscle in me tighten and my face gets hot. "She knows how to take care of herself."

I'm trying not to say anything, continuing to block his throws, but now I'm swinging back after each block. He's surprised at first, but then he starts blocking the way I've been doing. There's a certain determination in his eyes now. He swings his left arm towards the side of my face.

"She saved my life," Julian says as he straightens up to look at me. "I don't know what it is you owe her, but-"

I'm too quick and I block his left with my strong right. Maybe a little too strong, because he grunts and drops his left arm, shaking off the sharp pain, before putting it back up to position.

"I don't owe her anything," I say. But I do owe her. I owe her an apology at the least. About a dozen of them.

Julian's face hardens. "Well, if you think _she _owes you something, I think she's done enough-" He jabs at my face with his right arm this time.

"You don't know _anything _about me and Lena," I say in a low voice. It doesn't sound like me, and yet, it is me. It's the me I've been trying to keep in. It's the me that's been harboring my fears. My sadness. My anger. It feels as if they're all in a bottle that I've been trying to keep a lid closed tight on, and I feel that lid loosening.

"Maybe I don't, but I know enough about her to know that-" he pauses. He knows enough about her. I know he does. I see him go into the same tent as Lena almost every night. But for him to point it out, to actually acknowledge it, certainly doesn't make the air between us any less tense. It's like he wants me to get mad at him. Either that, or he really just cares about Lena enough to want to try to get rid of whatever it is that's hurting her.

But it's not like I want to hurt her. God, that's the last thing I want to do. I want her to see me like she used to see me. I want to hold her and kiss her all over, and make her shiver with excitement and pleasure. I want for her to want me like she used to. Like she does Julian.

I miss her.

I see her in person every day and I still miss her. I still love her. And I can't have her like I used to. Because I gave her up. I let her go and she found him. She found this guy that's standing in front of me, looking at me and trying to reason with me. And I just want him to go away.

"That what?" I ask, my voice straining to maintain a neutral tone.

"You're making things hard on her. She doesn't need that. She doesn't need you to make her think she doesn't deserve to be happy."

He doesn't add "with me" to the end of his sentence, but I know that's what he's thinking. And the words echo in mind as if he actually did say it. Maybe he did, and I'm actually too drunk to realize it.

Whatever the case is, and with the alcohol still coursing through my system, and possibly the tension between the two of us, being in this situation, I'm not in control of myself. In that instant, he takes another jab with his right arm, quicker than before. With all the talk about Lena, I give into the anger I was trying to reign in only a moment ago. My left arm hooks into Julian's swinging right arm, and I pull him just close enough to land a hard right jab onto his nose.

I let go of him immediately and exhale, as if I'd been holding my breath the whole time.

"Sorry," I say it, and even though I mean it, I know it doesn't sound like I actually do.

"What the hell?!" Julian shouts. He spits out a few curse words while covering up his nose, which is now bleeding out quite healthily. "You did that on purpose!"

If I were sober, I probably would laugh about his childlike statement, but I kind of did do it on purpose. I didn't mean to make his nose bleed, but what he said about Lena got to me, and I did want to inflict pain on him.

He deserved it. He doesn't know anything about my history with Lena.

Someone breaks through the brushes, and it's like I'm not surprised at all that it's Lena. Of course it would be. I stand there, looking at Julian. Out of the corner of my eye, Lena pauses there for a moment, probably taking in the scenario. And I realize how bad it looks for me, because Julian's the one bleeding, and I'm still just standing there.

Lena calls out Julian's name. Julian. For a moment, I look away from the sight in front of me as Lena rushes to his side. Not even the alcohol can dull that pang I feel in my chest.

"What the hell did you do?" she says. I look straight into her eyes and I see a face hard-set in anger. There's no love in those eyes, like there was before. Not even sadness or confusion. Just fury.

I made a mistake, I know I did. I shouldn't have put Julian and myself in this situation in the first place. But I can't get myself to be apologetic enough.

"It was an accident. I swung too high," I say.

"Bullshit," retorts Lena. She hardly curses. She turns around and whispers to Julian about getting him cleaned up. My jealousy makes my heart beat faster than when we were fighting. I don't know what I should do now.

"No way," I hear Julian say. When I look at him, he's wiped off the blood from his nose and lip using his shirt. Then he looks at me. "We were just getting started. Weren't we, Alex?"

Now I really don't like the way he says my name. Lena looks like she wants to stop him, calling his name in a softer tone. I hate the way she says his name even more.

"Lena's right," I say, somewhat teasing. Part of me doesn't want to hear Lena's voice anymore anyway. "It's late. We can barely see anything out here. We can pick up again tomorrow." I don't mean it, though, because I don't want to be around him talking about Lena as if she's his alone.

I know the way I said it is only going to urge Julian to want to continue. I know it's stupid, but I'm making things worse by goading him into trying to take me on again.

"No time like the present."

I see Lena try to pull him away, but he won't budge and he shakes her off. That's the first time I've seen him reject her touch. A sense of triumph passes through me. Then I can see her through my peripheral and she's looking to me now. "Alex."

"Alex," she says. She pleads. I can't help but look at her. It's just like how she used to say my name. It's just like how she would say my name sometimes in my dreams. Softly, meaningfully. She wants me to stop this mess. She's looking to me to do it. To stop hurting her. I can't refuse her.

"Not tonight." And this time, I mean it.

I turn around, not really sure where I should go, but I step back. I have to erase the words that Julian had said to me about Lena. I just need to get away…

Suddenly, I'm knocked onto the ground. For a split second I'm wondering if we're being attacked again, but I realize it's only me being attacked.

I scramble around, and the anger that I've been wanting to push back inside of me explodes in red and yellow and white lights dazzling in and around my eyes. I feel the power of Julian's hit on my face, and suddenly images flash into my mind. Images from a time months ago.

_Run_, I plead with Lena with my eyes. _Run! Don't look back! _

_The guards knock me down with their batons. The pain is immense, but I looked to the fence to make sure she's running._ Julian's fist slams into my face again, but I'm hearing the crack of the batons. I'm hearing the voices of the guards and they're angry and dark and satisfied with their capture.

Another hit. Finally, I fight back. I'm throwing punches in the face in front of me. I'm kicking. I have him down and my fists fall fast and hard on his face. Julian's face. The guard's face. I don't know if I care that I can't tell the difference. Lena is no longer who I'm thinking of anymore. I'm thinking of the pain. The pain of being beaten. The pain of loss. The pain of fear. The pain of hate. It courses through me, and it just feels good to finally release. I keep hitting because somehow it's a release. A release from control and confinement and bitterness.

I forget myself. I forget the person I'm hitting. I forget he's still a human being, just like me.

Then I'm pulled away. My surroundings rush back into focus so swiftly, I'm dizzy for a second. And the loud sound in my head begins to form into words. Words that someone is saying to me.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I barely recognize Tack's voice as I'm still trying to gather what just happened. But I know. I know I've fucked things up. Badly. My hands are tingling with the release of my fists. I don't feel any pain in them. All the pain is gathered in my chest. "What happened?" Tack yells out.

And then I see her. She's staring at me with a look I've never seen before. I've seen Lena mad before. I've seen her in pain. I've seen her sad. But this is nothing like those, and I think that it probably wouldn't hurt as much if she were to just shoot me. It's a look that I know screams unforgiving. There's nothing I can say or do to erase that image of her from my mind now. I'd done that to her. I've made her angry before, but her eyes always gave way to a glint of love for me. Even when I didn't think so before, I realize now that she still held onto that love.

She doesn't anymore.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she asks. She didn't yell at me. She didn't have to. Her words were cold. Her voice matched the brewing fury inside of her. And it was all directed at me.

I can't blame her. One second, I was so close to giving her what she wanted, and the next, I destroyed any glimmer of trust she had in me. I destroyed any hope I had in making amends. I destroyed everything.

"I-I'm sorry," I whisper. I'm so ashamed; I just want to bury myself. "I didn't mean...I don't know what happened. I'm sorry, Lena." It's not enough. It can never be enough, but I have to try.

"Lena," I say her name. How can I make her understand if I don't understand what just happened myself? I think I move towards her, but she steps back and looks away, and I can only catch my breath. She doesn't have to do much to hurt me. She doesn't have to say a word. I feel the pain through the silence.

And I know. I know Julian is right. I've made things so much harder for her since I arrived. Being in the Crypts, I had never imagined I'd be able to escape. I had accepted the idea of Lena finding someone else to love because she learned how much more beautiful it is to love. And when she did, I took that away from her when I returned. If I had known how much this was going to affect her, affect both of us, we would've been better off had I not been so stubbornly searching for her.

"I'm sorry," I say again. I don't know if she's even listening to me anymore. "I'm sorry for everything."

I am sorry for everything. I'm sorry I came back. _I'm sorry I hurt you again, Lena. I love you, more than you know. _

I can never tell her that now. Because I'm scared of what she'll do or say in response. Either way, no good will come of this. Maybe it's time to accept my loss, again.

As I turn around to leave this party that I've broken, I know there's a part of me that wants her, or anyone, to call my name. To ask me to come back. To stay with them.

No one does.

Why should they?

I don't deserve to be with them.

I don't deserve to be with her.

* * *

><p>I've been gone a while. A few hours now. Everyone should be asleep now. At least that's what I'm hoping.<p>

I've resolved to leave the group. I know I'm more of a detriment now than a useful member. It's oddly quiet when I arrive back to the camp. I don't think I've ever heard it so quiet before. Usually there's someone who's up, standing guard, and for a moment I'm scared that something has happened during my absence.

Then I see Raven's dark hair. She's so quiet and still she looks like a statue. I think she's no older than thirty, but her tired eyes age her more. She's not looking at me directly, but I'm pretty sure she knows I'm there. And I'm pretty sure she's not going to stop me.

I sneak back into the house to grab my things. Luckily, I didn't unpack and there's no one close to it that I have to work my way around.

I see some blank pieces of paper on a small table in the room that I had been drinking in with Bram, Hunter, and Julian. Had it only been earlier than evening that we seemed to be able to at least have a semi-decent conversation?

No time to linger over it. I grab the pencil next to it, but when I'm just about to write, I realize that I'm not sure what exactly to write.

I don't know if saying I'm sorry yet again is going to make things better. And I recall the story I had in my head while I was in the woods waiting for everyone to go to sleep.

It's the story of a king named Solomon. The Book of Shhh wrote it differently, though, from what I've been told in the Wilds. It was when the others told me that the Book of Shhh revised the stories in them to make people believe that love was a disease. So instead of beautiful love stories, they gave the people in society unglamourous tales of the effects of deliria amor nervosa.

Solomon's tale was one such story. I had heard it so many times throughout my life, it is my favorite story. I had hoped to tell Lena about the original story, but that is no longer an option. But maybe she's already heard it by now.

I put the pencil back to the paper and start writing.

_The Story of Solomon is the only way I know how to explain. _

If she hasn't heard it already, I'm okay with that, too. Maybe that will make things easier for her to be with Julian. But at the same time, I want her to know that I still love her. That I never stopped loving her. And that I was able to let her go so she could love again.

_Forgive me. _I finally put the pencil down and let out my breath.

As I step back outside, Raven is looking at me now. I step closer to her.

"Thanks for taking care of her," I say. Raven looks up at me and she gives me a look I'm not familiar with. Maybe it's sadness, or relief. Maybe both.

"I know I can't stop you," she says. I almost wish she would try, but she's right. She wouldn't be able to stop me. I need to go before I make things worse for everyone, especially Lena. If things were different. If we weren't all struggling to survive as it is and fighting against a system that's been in place for generations, then maybe I wouldn't leave. No, I still had to go.

"And I know you'll be careful," I tell her.

"Always am." She nods. "You be careful, too."

I nod back. I consider letting her know where I'm going, but it's probably best she doesn't know.

I stare up at the sky, checking the position of the stars and then head north. I head home.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>_ Happy Thanksgiving to all you who celebrate Thanksgiving. Future chapters to come that will go into what Alex had been doing after he left. Hopefully it won't take me too long to get through.


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